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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253190">kill me with desire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Complicated Relationships, Introspection, M/M, enemies in love?? enemies with benefits??, essentially pwp but with a lot of Fucked Up Yearning, kinda handwavey abt timeline placement but just go with it bro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:15:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s a funny sort of thing, falling into bed with your fated adversary.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sephiroth/Cloud Strife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>kill me with desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a gift for a very dear friend! happy birthday! ♡</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a funny sort of thing, falling into bed with your fated adversary.</p><p>Cloud thought he hated Sephiroth — and in fact, he<em> does </em> hate him. But, despite it, despite <em> everything, </em> there’s a magnetic sort of pull drawing him in ever closer. He would never be free of Sephiroth, as Sephiroth will never be free of <em> him</em>. Their paths are intrinsically intertwined, their beings immutably part of each other.</p><p>
  <em> For better or for worse.</em>
</p><p>The sensation of slender hands stroking up his bare sides brings Cloud out of his reverie. Sephiroth’s hands are falsely gentle, <em> reverent</em>, everything he’s come to associate as the antithesis to the man currently atop him. Cloud doesn’t want tenderness, not from him. <em> I liked it better when you were trying to kill me, </em>he thinks.</p><p>There’s the barest hint of a flinch, his expression flickering with something unreadable as Sephiroth’s fingertips brush against the scar on his chest, where he’d once driven his blade.</p><p>“Do you remember this?” His voice is slow, words smoothly intoned. <em> Composed as ever.</em></p><p>“Is this your idea of getting me in the mood?” Cloud fires back rather ineffectively, with his voice ever so slightly breathy, clearly flustered but vehemently denying it. In such close proximity, all Cloud can think about is that Sephiroth is <em> pretty</em>. Of course he’s been this close to him before, but more often than not under very different circumstances. Now, he can notice his long, pale lashes, his shapely face, his full lips. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, loath to admit it as Cloud is, but Sephiroth’s otherworldly beauty always enraptures him.</p><p>Sephiroth smiles, catlike, in all his coiled, sinuous grace above Cloud. “Is it working?” His fingers circle the scar idly as he speaks, his tone edging on amusement.</p><p>Cloud says nothing, defiant; or as best as he can manage, given the situation.</p><p>“Now,” Sephiroth begins as he slides a hand down Cloud’s back, tracing the ridges and dips of Cloud’s spine, before settling at the small of his back, “how long are you going to keep acting like this?”</p><p>“Like <em> what</em>?”</p><p>“Like you don’t like this. Like you don’t come crawling to me, time after time, if only to quiet your mind. To not think for a while, you find solace in <em> me. </em><em>Is that not it, Cloud?</em>”</p><p>“Shut up,” Cloud hisses. He reaches to grip Sephiroth’s hair, just this side of painful in a way that makes Sephiroth <em> groan. </em> It takes the other man a moment to collect himself, and he counts that tiny crack in composure as a victory. “You don’t know the first thing about what I want.”</p><p>“I’m all you’ll ever have, Cloud. Of course I know you.”</p><p>Simply to shut him up, Cloud surges forward to kiss him, fisting his hand tighter in long silver hair. It’s frantic and rough, and Sephiroth responds in turn, lets out a soft, strangled noise as Cloud bites down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste has come to associate itself with Sephiroth in Cloud’s mind. It’s become familiar to him, both in battle and in bed, to the point that the idea of kissing anyone else without it feels strange, even <em> wrong.</em> </p><p>Sometimes, Cloud thinks that they fuck in much the same way they fight. Someone will always bleed, no matter the nature of their encounter. Love and hate were always meant to be intertwined for them.</p><p>When they pull back for air, Sephiroth has his own blood streaked across his lips, his hair ever so slightly disheveled. It’s a good look on him, Cloud decides; he has an ethereal kind of beauty, something holy to be desecrated.</p><p>And just like that, the scraps of control over the situation Cloud had are torn away, as Sephiroth bears his weight down harder against his prone form as he leans over him, effectively caging him in. He takes Cloud’s wrists, pins them above his head. Cloud doesn’t fight back against the hold, as unnecessary as such a display of dominance is. Nonetheless, his compliance prompts a murmured <em> ‘good boy’ </em> from Sephiroth. </p><p>Sephiroth looks down at him with a parody of affection as his grip falls away, instead cupping Cloud’s chin in a display that’s equal parts possessive and tender, his thumb resting on Cloud’s lower lip, his other hand sliding down his body to wrap around Cloud’s length. The corners of Sephiroth’s lips quirk up into a little catlike, amused smile at the immediate reaction he get once he strokes gently, once, twice, three times, until the blond’s hips start to jerk up into the touch.</p><p>“Eager as always,” Sephiroth remarks, smug and amused, as he pulls his hand away. Cloud makes an aimless noise, neither here nor there.</p><p>The seconds stretch between them as Sephiroth shifts his weight atop Cloud and reaches away for a moment. Cloud’s gaze doesn’t follow him, for he knows Sephiroth’s mannerisms by now. The thought of Sephiroth’s nimble fingers inside him sends a stab of arousal through his system, no matter how many times they’ve been in this situation before.</p><p>Sephiroth presses a dripping finger within him without a word, without preamble, with none of his usual theatrics. Cloud lets out a soft noise, like a wounded animal, as he seeks Sephiroth’s lips with his own. The kiss is less aggressive than their previous one they shared just mere minutes ago, yet still all-consuming, knee-buckling in its intensity.</p><p>Moments pass as Sephiroth’s finger moves within him with surgical precision, seeking, until Cloud suddenly jolts and mewls into the kiss, the sound swallowed up by Sephiroth’s lips as stars burst behind his eyes. The blond can feel Sephiroth smile victoriously against his lips before they pull away for air, Cloud’s breath labored, ragged around the edges.</p><p>“<em>More,” </em>he pleads.</p><p>“You’re not in a position to be making demands, are you?” Sephiroth responds coolly. “You’ll take what I give you.”</p><p><em> You’re at my mercy, </em> whispers his voice in Cloud’s mind, unspoken.</p><p>Cloud huffs indignantly, but doesn’t object, doesn’t move, <em> obedient. </em> As if in reward, Sephiroth works in another finger, slowly at first, then scissoring his fingers with the intent to consume Cloud’s senses, drawing a groan from raw, kiss-bitten lips. The slick drag of Sephiroth’s fingers within him, like the slow slide of honey, infuses his veins with liquid gold, warm and thick, the pads of his fingers burning a trail in their wake. </p><p>With his fingers still working Cloud open, Sephiroth dips his head, sinks his teeth into his neck with enough force to break the skin. Drops of blood spring to the surface of his skin, shimmering in the low light of the room, like jewels offered at an altar. He soothes his tongue over the wound, presses a kiss over it, and pulls back, never wanting to take his eyes off Cloud for longer than he has to. He watches Cloud’s expression shift, the blond letting out out a breathy whine as he slips his fingers out, and then he’s pressing in, eagerly taking in the way Cloud’s jaw falls slack at the stretch.</p><p>Sephiroth’s breath hitches, and he lets a shuddering exhale fall from his lips as he continues his slow push inside Cloud. There’s a brief moment of stillness, mere heartbeats of silence, before Sephiroth starts to move. He’s never gentle, not here, not ever, but Cloud expects nothing else. </p><p>Cloud looks up at him and somehow, for once, doesn’t see a monster, doesn’t see ruination; he simply sees a man. Sephiroth always looks the most human he’s ever seen him in the throes of passion, the small noises only Cloud can draw out of him, the way he drops his head forward when he’s close. It’s all familiar to him, as familiar as fighting Sephiroth. Those little displays of humanity, maybe of what Sephiroth could have been, only serve to create a more complicated perception of him. He doesn’t want to see him that way. It’s easier to hate him, easier not to think too hard about it, so Cloud focuses on that liquid heat coursing through his body at fever pitch. It’s easier to give into it, to not to have to think. </p><p>Cloud claws down Sephiroth’s back just because he can, just to leave a mark, no matter how impermanent. Sephiroth responds in turn, dragging his nails down the planes of his chest, carving out angry red lines like a signature.</p><p>At what point does it become love? Can they even call it love, this all-consuming forest fire, this blade sunk in deep enough that maybe all this blood they’ve spilled is sacred after all? <em> Where is the line to be drawn?</em></p><p>
  <em> This is not a love story. It never was.</em>
</p><p>For a fleeting moment, he entertains the thought of killing Sephiroth (<em>again).</em> He could flip him over, wrap his hands around his neck, drain the life from him. It’d be oddly intimate, ending Sephiroth’s life in such a way, by his hands and no one else’s. As if it was always meant to end like this. Maybe there’s some truth in that, Cloud thinks. They’ll surely destroy each other, whether as lovers, foes, or something in between. They don’t have the luxury of anything or anyone but each other, <em> do they?  </em></p><p>But if he did kill him, what then? What would that leave him? There’s nothing left, nothing to hate. It’s an ugly sort of thing, Cloud thinks, to need Sephiroth like this. But what else does he have?</p><p>“I <em> hate </em>you,” Cloud hisses.</p><p>“And yet I’m inside you,” Sephiroth responds, coolly, his pace unfaltering.</p><p>He shuts his eyes, tries not to think about any of it. He tries not to think about the weight of the body above his own, tries not to think about what it means that he welcomes it,<em> wants </em> it. Lithe fingers circle around his length, stroking gently, the added stimulation drawing a whimper from Cloud.</p><p>“That’s it, Cloud,” Sephiroth all but purrs, bringing up his free hand to cup Cloud’s chin, to which he tenses and recoils, “<em>give in.”</em></p><p>Cloud resents it with what little capacity for thought he has left, but as it stands, his awareness of anything but Sephiroth in this moment is fuzzy around the edges. He gives in. He always does. The world falls away, the only thing keeping him tethered is where Sephiroth is touching him: Sephiroth inside him, his pace relentless, his teeth at Cloud’s neck mirroring the bite mark he’d previously left, the little knife-pricks of nails dug into his hips in a grip sure to leave bruises.</p><p>A less than dignified noise is torn from Cloud’s lungs as Sephiroth pulls out of him suddenly, effortlessly flipping him over onto his stomach and sliding back into him all at once. He feels exposed, vulnerable, but only for a moment, before Sephiroth brushes against that spot within him that makes his body go taut, before laying boneless against the sheets. His hands clench white-knuckled in the sheets as he pants, hurtling ever closer to the edge.</p><p>“Are you close?” Sephiroth whispers, breath hot on Cloud’s neck as he drapes himself over his back.</p><p>Cloud can only manage a soft <em> hnn, </em>his hips bucking. He’d later be embarrassed by his shamelessness as he moans, pushing himself back to meet Sephiroth’s hips. </p><p>“Come for me, Cloud.” <em> My Cloud, </em> he seems to say, yet unspoken, as he reaches to stroke Cloud in time with his thrusts. It doesn’t take much longer after that, crying out as he goes limp, unable to hold himself up through the rush of sensation. Sephiroth continues to chase his own completion, thrusts growing erratic as Cloud twitches in overstimulation, little whines slipping past swollen lips. When he finally comes, it’s with a soft sigh, his composure cracking only slightly.</p><p>They’re slow to disentangle themselves from each other, as Cloud lays boneless against the sheets, catching his breath with deep, shaky inhales. He mewls when Sephiroth slips out from inside him at last. </p><p>He lays there, still, before pushing himself into a sitting position after what must have been minutes. Sephiroth has since gotten up, standing at the window, gazing at the late night view. Cloud doesn’t want to know what he’s pondering, but he seems to be thinking. </p><p>“You ruin everything you touch,” Cloud finally says, vacantly, from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, yet undressed and avoiding Sephiroth’s catlike gaze. <em> Vulnerable.  </em></p><p>“Is that so?” comes the mildly amused reply. Cloud lets out a low, furious sound. It’s enough of a response for Sephiroth to continue speaking, voice smooth and unaffected. “We’re more alike than you want to acknowledge, Cloud. Think about that, won’t you?”</p><p>Cloud goes silent — he’s right. As it stands, there’s a sort of unbreakable connection between them, forever orbiting each other. He and Sephiroth could have had some sort of relationship: friends, or lovers, even. <em> If things were different. </em> Regardless, he’s all Cloud feels he deserves, finding solace in the bedroom of his enemy. <em> Atonement; such an ironic, fickle thing, is it not? </em></p><p>He looks at Sephiroth, pleadingly, for something he’s unsure of. The corners of the other man’s lips quirk up, as if he’s heard something slightly humorous. Or perhaps he’s just thinking.</p><p>And just like that, the moment is over. What may have been is no longer a thought he’s willing to entertain. “Whatever,” Cloud huffs as he turns away from him, refusing to pursue the matter any further. He curls in on himself, as if shielding himself, as he pulls the sheets around his body. </p><p>Minutes of silence stretch between them, Sephiroth simply staring at him — Cloud doesn’t have to look to feel his stare.</p><p>“I can almost <em> hear </em>you thinking,” says Sephiroth as he slides into bed, the sheets caressing his bare form. He does it with such normalcy, as if it’s a perfectly common thing to share a bed with the man who’s tried to kill you, as if Cloud hadn’t already succeeded before. He keeps his head propped up on an elbow as he watches Cloud, acid-green eyes boring into him.</p><p>Cloud stares across the room, counting the lines of the floorboards, pointedly not responding. It’s almost <em> normal</em>, the way they settle into each other’s presence in such a way. If not for the overwhelming guilt of sleeping with Sephiroth setting in, he’d feel sated. </p><p>
  <em> Isn’t this the part of sex where we’re supposed to talk to each other? </em>
</p><p>Him and Sephiroth, <em> actually fucking talking</em>, in a way that doesn’t end in crossed blades and drawn blood? It’s laughable. The thought draws a wry, bitter sort of laugh out of Cloud, to which Sephiroth pays no mind.</p><p>“Sometimes,” he says, before he can stop himself, voice raw, rough around the edges, “I wish you’d stayed dead.” </p><p>“Is that so?” Sephiroth doesn’t seem to feel any sort of animosity towards what he’d said, voice smooth and composed as ever. It infuriates Cloud. “You could try <em> again</em>, if the idea pleases you that much.” Cloud doesn’t have to turn around to know Sephiroth is looking at him with that infuriating smirk of his, much like the cat that has caught the canary. He hates it, hates that look of his, familiar as it may be. </p><p>
  <em> Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.</em>
</p><p>Silence falls between them, rife with things gone unspoken. </p><p>Cloud closes his eyes and settles into sleep with the heavy weight of Sephiroth’s eyes on him.</p>
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